


Quickly / If it helps.

by agentbranski



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games), gaypex legends
Genre: Other, mirage gets 2 3rd base, miragehound, miraghound, why arent there relationship tags 4 enby ppl?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentbranski/pseuds/agentbranski
Summary: i hit a writing block in my book so yall get some sweaty miraghound. pls enjoy
Relationships: Bloodhound & Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Quickly / If it helps.

The city was quiet, there were no footsteps to trace or any distant gunfire to lure some adventure into the day. Bloodhound had been thorough in their search, combing every building, every room, behind every corner, and not a trace of life was found. The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing of the man trying to keep pace behind them. Mirage was stumbling ten feet behind, complaining and groaning about being on the move. Bloodhound paid him no mind; Round five was beginning, the two were in center ring and they hadn’t found a soul to battle. Bloodhound climbed two sets of stairs in a breeze, coming to a stop in a small room at the top of the building. They approached a window on the far side of the room, peering out of it in hopes of gaining a better perspective on the city. It was frustrating having to search so hard for a fight; They didn’t join the games to take scenic walks.

“B… Bloodhound,” Mirage panted as he climbed the stairs, “Please, can we take a break? Just a breather? Just for a minute buddy.”

“Are you not breathing now?” Bloodhound spoke, not pulling their gaze from the window, hoping for a sign of movement across the abandoned urban streets.

“Is that… Sarcasm?” Mirage asked between breaths, pulling himself over to Bloodhound and laying himself on the ground beside them, his back pressed up against the wall beneath the window. “Gonna be honest, I didn’t think you were capable. You’ve been hanging out with Wraith too much haven’t you?” Mirage could feel Bloodhound glance down at him for a moment before returning their gaze to the outside. They didn’t respond. Mirage took advantage of the moment to catch his breath, leaning his head back against the cool wall and closing his eyes, keeping an ear out to make sure Bloodhound didn’t ditch him again.

“You seem… Distracted,” they finally spoke, “I apologize for disturbing your sleep last night. I heard stirring, I thought you had been awake.”

Mirage’s eyes snapped open. He had assumed the events of the night before had been forgotten. He assumed wrong. The legend sat up straight, clearing his throat and setting his gun at his side. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. In fact, you can forget about the whole thing,” Mirage tried, “Water under the bridge.”

The waver in the man’s voice caught in Bloodhound’s ear. Mirage was a weak liar, but in a way that made him honest. It was clear that lying wasn’t something that came natural to the man, despite his image built on a foundation of illusion and trickery. Most of the legends had something to hide, that was common. Bloodhound could see it in their faces, in the masks they projected when others were around. They were all tucking away their secrets as well as they could, some much more sinister than others. Bloodhound peered at the man below them, being cautious not to turn their head and alert him. The hunter wondered what his secrets were. They watched him silently, noticing the flush across his cheeks, his hair sticking to the sides of his face, beads of sweat running down his forehead and along his neck. Mirage shifted, seeming unable to get comfortable. Was he aware he was being watched? Bloodhound’s eyes flicked back to the city streets, ever vigilant. They supposed a small break could be beneficial, Mirage wouldn’t be of any use in battle if his energy was depleted.

“Slow game, huh?” Mirage said, eager to fill the silence, “I bet everyone is across the map, duking it out— O-Or maybe we all just keep missing each other by a thread. That’d be funny wouldn’t it? Maybe we can get to the final ring with ten squads to go and everyone’s around the corner.” Mirage pulled his goggles off his head, using the back of his arm to wipe away the sweat that had built over his brow. “God I hope that doesn’t happen. I’m sure that probably won’t happen.” The man shifted again, tugging at the fabric on his legs, fighting with his own outfit for a moment of comfort.

Bloodhound paid no mind to the idle chatter, scanning the horizon and examining every window. Mirage was nervous, they could determine that much. Between the stammering and his lacking performance in their game so far, the man may as well have painted his stress on the wall. Bloodhound feared his teammate’s nerves were besting him, something that could prove fatal if they were caught by the wrong squad. The hunter looked back down to Mirage, watching him closely this time. He was still speaking but Bloodhound didn’t listen. It wasn’t his words that needed their attention. “Are you well?” they asked, interrupting the man’s rambling.

Mirage felt his words twist in his mouth at the question, he stammered and stumbled through the last of his sentence before clearing his throat. “Yeah I’m fine. Definitely fine. Super fine, actually.”

“You seem unwell.”

“Unwell? What? That’s pe-pep… peposto… that’s ridiculous. I’m fine,” Mirage assured, waving off their teammate, “Just need a minute to focus is all.”

That was when Bloodhound discovered the source of their squadmates distress.

Their eyes had followed a droplet of sweat running down Mirage’s warm skin then, for reasons unknown to them, their gaze continued to drift downward towards the legend’s lap. The moment their eyes fell below his waist they could see the obvious strain of the fabric on his thigh. The hunter chirped and returned to looking out the window. They could feel their face grow warm under their mask.

“Woah,” Mirage laughed, looking up at Bloodhound, “Did you just chirp?”

Bloodhound didn’t respond. Of course Mirage didn’t know they’d seen the bulge threatening to tear through his pants; Their mask allowed many small freedoms, discretion being one of them. What they wanted to know was whether  _ Mirage _ was aware. He had to know, didn’t he? It seemed  _ preposterous  _ to have such a pressing dilemma and not already be painfully aware. Bloodhound again glanced down to the man only to get caught up in his big brown eyes. Mirage was staring up at him expectantly, he wanted something, his eyes were pleading gently, his expression so soft and so… fragile. It took a moment to remember the legend had asked them a question. Bloodhound ripped their eyes from his, looking back out the window but unable to focus on any one thing in particular. The scene blurred together. All the hunter could see was the image of those pleading brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, was that rude?”

The apology pulled Bloodhound out of their daydream and back into the room. They turned and looked at Mirage, thankful the legend was looking away now even if it was out of embarrassment. The hunter wished they could remember what he was talking about, but their mind was under assault with images of tan skin, flushed faces, and torn clothing. An enemy squad could have kicked down the door right then and Bloodhound wouldn’t notice. Their eyes were locked onto Mirage now, all else falling away until the only things left were the two legends in an empty city. Bloodhound took a step closer. They were standing directly above Mirage now, taking no actions to hide their gaze.

A chill skittered up Mirage’s spine when he heard Bloodhound move closer. His head snapped up to see the tall hunter looming over him. The man’s mind went blank, all thought fizzling away as he stared up at the dark, sightless lenses above him. Mirage’s heart was pounding. Did they know? He attempted to move to his feet but was stopped when Bloodhound raised a hand, effectively locking him into his spot on the floor.

“You are distracted, Mirage,” Bloodhound stated evenly, watching their friend squirm at the observation, “That does not bode well for our victory.”

Mirage opened his mouth to spill another apology but Bloodhound was quick to silence him again.

“What was it that had you stirring so much in the night?”

“Oh that? It was nothing!” Mirage laughed, quickly trying to dismiss the topic, “Sometimes people have weird dreams. It’s no big deal. It happens to everyone.”

“So it was a dream, then?”

“I-I guess so.”

“What did you dream of?” Bloodhound watched as the man squirmed more, looking away bashfully, his cheeks were flushed even further now; He must have known his secret was on the verge of exposure. When Mirage didn’t respond the hunter took it upon themselves to crouch down to his level, setting their gun down and giving their full attention to their flustered teammate. “I am sorry for intruding last night. I know it was quite late,” Bloodhound began again, watching Mirage struggle to keep his eyes averted, “I hope that’s not what’s troubling you so much today.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mirage assured, still keeping his gaze cast away from Bloodhound, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest with them crouching so closely, “I wasn’t sleeping well anyways.” Bloodhound was only inches away now and despite all their layers, Mirage could still feel the heat radiating off of them. He wiped his face again, sweat was rolling off of him now and he wondered if he was able to blame the pools of lava a few miles out. “Like I said, we can just forget about it. I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.”

“Do you usually talk in your sleep?” Bloodhound continued, deciding to press the issue, “I only ask because I was almost certain I heard you call for me.” The man in front of them went rigid, Bloodhound didn’t fight the smile the sight brought out of them. Perhaps it was foolish to play like this when they were in the middle of a game, but they couldn’t stop themselves. Mirage was an animal, wounded, and not even putting up much of a fight. They couldn’t imagine overlooking such an easy prey. “What did you dream of?” they asked again. When Mirage didn’t answer the hunter reached a gloved hand out, gently taking his chin and turning the man’s face towards them. “Tell me.”

“You,” Mirage choked out.

“Doing?”

“This.”

There was a long silence between the two legends. Mirage’s eyes searched desperately for some sort of signal or sign that he hadn’t stuck his foot right into his mouth, but Bloodhound gave him nothing. He began to panic, already coming up with a hundred excuses for what he said and why it didn’t actually mean anything, but before the legend could open his mouth he felt a hand on his thigh. Heat blossomed on his face in an instant. He looked down in shock, watching as Bloodhound’s gloved hand ran over his lap. “O-Oh wow,” he mumbled, taken aback by the feeling of being touched, “Listen, Bloodhound, i-if you’re not into this you don’t have t--” Mirage was shushed before he could finish. He swallowed and looked back up his partner’s face, their gaze was focused downwards on their hands gently squeezing and rubbing along his inner thigh. Mirage felt like his head was going to explode. A whimper escaped him, causing Bloodhound to break their gaze and finally look up.

Bloodhound didn’t think much about what they were doing, instead they just let their hands roam freely. They massaged his thigh gently before letting their hand finally brush against the bulge that was begging for attention. Hearing the catch in Mirage’s breath was a pleasing sound, it made them feel like they’d won something. They continued to tease with light touches until the man was practically pushing his hips into their hand. Bloodhound chuckled.

“Please,” Mirage begged breathlessly.

“Someone could find us.”

“It doesn’t have to take long.”

“Can you be sure?”

“I-I promise, I’ll be quick,” he nodded, “Then we can go back to the game. I’ll go anywhere you want to go after this, _please_.”

The hunter sighed, running their finger absentmindedly along the man’s firm length, pulling back each time his hips tried to raise to their touch. Mirage whined. Bloodhound relented at last, “Well… If it helps.” Their hand finally pressed into the straining bulge and gripped it carefully, beginning to stroke and rub against the outside of his clothing. The man was groaning in seconds. A heavenly sound, but one they couldn’t afford allowing to slip outside the room. Bloodhound covered Mirage’s mouth with their free hand, shushing them quietly while they worked. They could feel every whimper that escaped the man’s lips fall right into the palm of their hand. It was addicting to cause so much pleasure from so little attention, Bloodhound wondered if the legend was always this easy to melt down.

Mirage reached out and grabbed desperately at Bloodhound’s coat, his fingers curling and gripping the rough material tightly as he tried to keep his cool. His back arched and a moan fell out into the gloved hand over his mouth. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Could he still be dreaming? Before now, Bloodhound hadn’t shown any interest in Mirage even as a friend. Yet now they were crouched over him with their hands hard at work in his lap all during a game. If it was a dream, Mirage prayed he didn’t wake up any time soon. Suddenly Bloodhound was tilting the man’s head upwards, diverting his view to the ceiling. Mirage shut his eyes. He could feel them shift to move over closer, positioning themselves over his lap. For a moment their hands had stopped and Mirage whined, ready to beg again until he felt hot heavy breathing against his neck followed by the feeling of cool lips. The man’s brain went blank. Bloodhound pressed kiss after kiss on his hot skin, their hands quickly getting back to work as they did. It didn’t take long for the pressure of an orgasm to build up inside Mirage, he groaned louder and pulled Bloodhound closer to him.

The hunter was caught off guard, stumbling and falling into Mirage’s lap. They caught themselves on the wall behind them and felt Mirage’s hands wrap around their waist, bucking his hips upwards and grinding himself against them. They gasped at the feeling, but instead of scrambling away, they pressed into it. Mirage was moaning again, his hips moving erratically. Bloodhound noticed his eyes were still squeezed shut so they took advantage of the moment, taking the man’s face in their hands and pulling him into a soft kiss. Mirage’s hips moved faster and Bloodhound’s moved with him, grinding against one another in a frantic rhythm until a loud cry escaped him. Mirage embraced Bloodhound tightly, burying his face into their soft furred shoulder as he bucked and rocked against them through the last waves of his orgasm. Bloodhound didn’t move, allowing him to settle while they held him, stroking his hair and humming quietly. When the man’s breathing finally evened out, Bloodhound refitted their mask and got up slowly. The first thing they noticed was the large damp splotch on Mirage’s thigh, staining the fabric of his clothing. The hunter chuckled at the mess.

“Oh… Great,” Mirage mumbled to himself as he saw it.

“Do not fret,” Bloodhound cooed, bending over to pick up their gun, “I’m sure no one will notice until we win.”

“Win?” Mirage looked back up to Bloodhound, still in a daze from the ordeal, “Oh yeah, the game. Geeze, I already forgot.”

“You promised.” As if on cue, Bloodhound’s ears caught the familiar sound of gunfire in the distance. Their attention was pulled immediately and they began to make their way towards it. “Slatra awaits us, Elliott. Let’s make haste.” They didn’t give the man a chance to argue before the hunter disappeared out of the room and off to the streets.

“H-Hey wait up! Don’t leave me behind!” Mirage called out, scrambling to his feet and following them out into the empty city in pursuit of adventure.


End file.
